


Raise a Glass

by dreamlittleyo



Series: Glass 'Verse [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friendship, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 05:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14687469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: Alexander has a thing for his boss. John is the only person who knows.





	Raise a Glass

It's somewhere at the beginning of their second pitcher of beer that Alexander locks John with a challenging glare and announces, "I'll have you know, I'm a paragon of sound judgment." The bar is noisy and crowded, his senses are fuzzy, and in the morning he won't remember why he felt the need to assert this point. Hell, if they actually finish this second pitcher he might not remember the conversation at all.

John only laughs in answer. The startled burst of sound cuts through the deafening noise, and Alexander glares harder.

It takes ages for the bubbling laughter to fade, at which point John grins. Takes a slow drink. Then sets his glass on the table to pour himself another round.

It's while he's pouring that he asks, "What about your massive crush on our boss?"

Alexander does his best to look affronted. "I _do not_ have a massive crush on Washington."

John sets the pitcher down with a thunk and raises his eyes. He peers into Alexander's face for several seconds before arching one eyebrow high.

Alexander scowls. "It happens to be a crush of perfectly reasonable size. And anyway, you're one to talk, Mister Seven-Suit-Fittings-In-A-Month-Because-I-Want-To-Bang-My-Tailor." Not the eloquent retort he could have managed sober, but it gets the point across.

Except instead of conceding that Alexander is right, John just shakes his head emphatically. "No. No-no-no-no. No _way_. That's not the same. See, when I get up the nerve to make a move, everything's gonna be smooth sailing. Dinner reservations, concert tickets, hey wanna come back to my place for a drink… Easy."

"Or you could need to hire a new tailor," Alexander mumbles into his glass.

John pretends not to hear him. " _You_ on the other hand. You are an HR nightmare waiting to happen. You entertain _vivid fantasies_ of being fucked over Washington's desk during a conference call—"

"I told you that in confidence!" Alexander protests hotly.

John gives him a wry look before glancing pointedly around their otherwise empty booth. Both brows rise this time, as though to call out precisely how ridiculous Alexander is being.

" _And_ ," Alexander presses, sulking now, "I didn't tell you so you could lord it over me to win an argument."

"This isn't an argument," John says. "It's just me observing, _astutely_ , that your idea of good judgment is dubious at best."

"Fuck you," Alexander mutters. He slouches in his seat and lets his gaze drop to the mostly full glass in his hand. He stares at the smooth amber liquid and resists the urge to grind his teeth. John is right, damn him, but Alexander has no intention of admitting it.

"Hey." John's foot nudges his beneath the table. "Come on, man, I'm your best friend. You know I've got your back."

"You're an asshole." But Alexander's ire is softening. John _is_ his best friend. There's a reason he's the only person on the planet in whom Alexander has confided this.

"I'm looking out for you. If I weren't here, you might be in Washington's office _right now_ begging for his—"

"Oh my god, _stop_." Exasperation and horror tinge Alexander's voice in equal parts. "I'd be doing no such thing. I happen to like my job." He _does_ like his job. He's damn good at it. And he knows, no matter how vivid his fantasies, he will never risk Washington finding out.

He doesn't mean to fall silent. He certainly doesn't intend to stay quiet _so long_. But his mind is a noisy place, and his thoughts are fuzzy with the alcohol he's been drinking. His usual relentless focus turns against him now, and for a moment _all_ he can think about is Washington. Dark eyes glinting with affection and approval, a faint smile touching that handsome face. Distracting at the best of times, but worse in this moment.

Because Alexander is drunk. And he is lonely, despite John's company. And he is exhausted with the effort of wanting something he cannot have.

"You okay?" John asks, and the question is barely audible over the rumbling cacophony of the bar.

"Yeah," Alexander lies. "I'm good."

He empties his glass in a slow, single swallow. Then reaches for the pitcher and pours another drink.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: [Massive](https://dreamlittleyo.dreamwidth.org/103669.html)
> 
> I hang out **[over on Dreamwidth](https://dreamlittleyo.dreamwidth.org/)** if that is a place anyone still goes. In the rare instance I'm inspired to post things that aren't fic--or participate in wider fandom happenings--that's where you'll find me. :D


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